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I see the Prime Minister and I were engaged in the same fantastic activity last weekend — no, not redesigning the CPP, but canoeing an Ontario river. What could be more Canadian, or more heralding of summer?

Justin Trudeau paddled with his wife, Sophie, and his daughter, Ella Grace, on the Rouge River in Scarborough, in an event promoting parks in urban areas.

My husband and I joined members of the Wilderness Canoe Association for a leisurely, all-day paddle on the Grand River, a lovely Canadian heritage river lined with Carolinian forests. We started in Cambridge and ended in Paris, Ontario.

There the similarities end. I announced no policy and, in fact, fell out of my canoe into the river. You might say a river ran through me.

Worse luck still, our group of about 27 paddlers was being “observed” by York University sociologist Arthur McLuhan (grandson of the late world-famous communications guru Marshall McLuhan). He is doing a study about “character and competence” in everyday life, including on the water.

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I sincerely hope that McLuhan was not within earshot for the brief but robust marital discussion that occurred when, with my husband at the stern, we collided with a raft full of young men (a “testosterone floating device,” according to my husband). While trying to use my paddle to push away from the raft, I lost my balance and plunged into water so shallow my real fear was hitting my head. So much for competence.

As for character, “You didn’t do your job!” I snarled over the delicious sound of the very light river rapids. “You lost your balance!” My husband shouted back.

Never mind. With the solicitous help of the rafters and our team leader, we righted our canoe and carried on. In the full-on afternoon heat, my water-soaked clothes were rather refreshing, and someone kindly recovered my favourite orange sun hat floating down river.

It was so beautiful that any momentary annoyance or slight embarrassment of dumping faded. We’ve done the trip many times and, in fact, have even dumped once before. I am what is known in a club full of wonderfully experienced paddlers, including my husband, as “a good sport.”

I love this trip for so many reasons. You leave your Toronto house and within an hour and a half, you are paddling the urban wilderness. In our case, a dozen or so canoes were filled with happy, interesting people. (You don’t meet too many jerks in canoes — too low tech.)

The conversations were meandering. “So you take the red peppers out?” said our group leader discussing a recipe with a paddler in another boat. I heard about upcoming trips — one brave 71-year-old woman was embarking on a two-week wilderness trip in the far north: “My kids are concerned, but I wanted to do this and now is the time.”

I am always impressed by the group ethos — it’s supportive, encouraging and safety conscious. We pull up and wait in our canoes until all are safely over a challenging patch. And almost all of us wore — didn’t just carry — personal flotation devices. I am never in a boat without wearing one.

On a beautiful warm day, it unhooks your mind and opens your soul to paddle down a pretty river, gazing at old stone bridges and a mill, wildflowers and the occasional beautiful bird. For the device-dependent and technology-addicted, hearing a real “tweet” instead of scrolling through Twitter for those other kinds of tweets is salutary. Birds don’t seem to be enraged about Donald Trump. Lucky them.

What this river lacked in water level — it was so shallow one of our paddlers began singing “Rock Around the Clock” — it made up for in beauty and, for me, relative ease. For a woman who once joked that her favourite summer sport was “whitewater window shopping,” this was my kind of challenge.

I always emerge with a sense of personal pride. I did it! We end our day with a barbecue, and the wine, salads and burgers, not to mention a warm homemade rhubarb pie, are culinary masterpieces.

Each year I do this trip, I am different. I bring another year’s experiences with me, good and challenging. I bring my body and observe it, a bit critically. I think about different things, grateful to be, in that clichéd but still so true phrase, “in the moment.”

Summer is for adventures, modest or grand. I hear stories of elaborately planned expeditions — “first we fly into Norman Wells” — but I am also taken by how much simple pleasure we all can have in warm air, sunny days and any level of physical activity.

Hardly anything is better than sharing the outdoors with those you love. Even an unplanned dip in a river. So maybe, like the PM, I do have a policy to announce: get out there and do it.

Judith Timson writes weekly about cultural, social and political issues. You can reach her at judith.timson@sympatico.ca and follow her on Twitter @judithtimson

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